the sky paints a familiar purple
a lilac trailing in the form of clouds
its vivid reflection dancing upon your skin
and your fingertips, and mine,
and the corners of your lips.

sometimes, it's in the bruises on your knuckles
or the cold blueberries on somber evenings
the way lavenders adorn your long dark hair.
windswept yet sightly.
and your darling voice would lull me to sleep
and send my soul alight.

but time and again,
its the middle ground for the head and the heart
the brief moment between sunset and evenings
the mauve that says i love you without need for words.

assurance and certainty placed among the berried table
the courage to wade in it's deepest depths.
avert your gaze skyward and see
even the vibrant heavens can be
a place where you can lay your soul to rest.